


my whole existence is flawed

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Obsession, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 10:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4826165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Survivor Series, AJ's been thinking a lot about Brie Bella. Maybe too much for her own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my whole existence is flawed

It’s easy to pinpoint when it started. AJ remembers it well: remembers how soft Brie’s lips felt on hers even if the kiss itself was forceful, meant to freak her out. Maybe she should have kissed back, she had thought, maybe she should have kissed back and thrown off whatever game plan the twins had made to get to her title.

A moment later and that wasn’t the reason she’d kiss back at all. A moment later and it would have been some sheer want and need for more. This is bigger than any of her past loves, she thinks: bigger than Daniel and Kane and Punk and John and Dolph. Perhaps bigger than them all combined.

So it’s easy to pinpoint when it started, but perhaps not _why_. Not exactly. AJ could never confide to anyone that she’s infatuated with Brie Bella of all people, not when just about everyone in the locker room who she’s at least a little bit friendly with (and there aren’t many of those anymore, not now Kaitlyn’s gone) seems to hate the twins with a passion.

AJ feels a different kind of passion altogether.

She finds herself sneaking through Brie’s bags when there’s no-one else in the locker room, trying to find whatever it was that made her smell so intoxicating when they were only mere millimetres away from each other, whatever it was that has AJ like this in the first place.

Eventually she comes across a bottle, and this has to be it unless Brie had been wearing a different fragrance back at Survivor Series. AJ only dares to spray the tiniest hint of it, not wanting to waste the bottle and make Brie suspicious even though she’s desperate to douse herself in the scent and be swallowed up by it.

She spends ages at a perfume counter when she finds the time to, just making sure it’s exactly right. She buys the biggest bottle. It’s expensive, and before now she wouldn’t have understood why anyone would spend so much on a glass bottle of what’s basically scented water sold in a fancy box just to smell decent when you can just buy a good deodorant for cheaper, but now the price seems like nothing.

It’s nothing compared to the worth of Brie.

AJ doesn’t wear the perfume herself, doesn’t want anyone to think that she would. Doesn’t want anyone to notice that it’s the same as Brie’s. She does like it, though, if only because it makes her remember, makes everything she dreams about that much more real.

She sprays it through the room whenever she’s alone and lets herself get high off the scent, off whatever image of Brie that works its way into her mind when she does so.

She sits in front of the mirror and when she closes her eyes for a moment, there’s Brie smiling behind her and arms winding around AJ’s shoulders, Brie leaning down to kiss her neck.

AJ wakes up in the middle of the night, needing some comfort, and the first thing she thinks to do is stretch an arm out to feel around on the nightstand for that bottle of perfume. She gives it a spray and suddenly Brie is enveloping her along with the duvet, and she doesn’t want to drift back off just yet. (But she does, and her dreams are of Brie, and that’s just as good.)

Sometimes she isn’t even under the sheets: AJ lies back on her bed, naked, and breathes Brie in as a hand reaches down her chest, rolling a nipple between her fingers before her hand moves down-down-down, skimming across her stomach and further, and _shit_ , she’s so wet just from the thoughts. She lets a finger tease her clit, lets herself wonder how Brie knows every part of her just as well as she knows herself, lets herself be pulled away from reality even more than usual. She comes with Brie’s name on her lips, and swears she sees Brie leaning over her when her eyes begin to flutter open.

After visions like that, seeing Brie in the flesh is just plain _strange_. Every private flight of fantasy seems so real to AJ that she can’t quite understand why Brie isn’t beside her at every moment, why Brie ignores her in the corridors and sends scornful looks her way.

When she has to wrestle Brie, she tries to put herself on autopilot, tries just to focus on the match and winning and possibly being Divas Champion again. She sees Nikki holding the title ringside, sees the pink and silver belt glinting in her arms and remembers what it was like those three times when it was hers. It stops her from doing anything that commentary and the rest of the locker room would call _crazy_ , but it doesn’t stop her from thinking that she’d rather have Brie as hers than the butterfly belt.

The night of the RAW after Wrestlemania, she somehow lets Paige drag her back to her hotel room once RAW’s over – Paige is no Brie but she’ll do, perhaps – and ends up on her back on the bed sheets. She tries to forget there’s any contrast between Paige’s skin and her own, tries to shrink Paige down to be a couple of inches shorter, tries to warp Paige’s accent in her brain when the other woman speaks.

It works, and suddenly there’s Brie looking down at her with heated, hungry eyes; Brie’s hands moving over her body; Brie leaning in to kiss her, fierce. The lips on AJ’s own move to her neck and from there further down: over her breasts and then down across her stomach and eventually arriving at her cunt. AJ shivers. _Fuck_. It’s all she’s wanted for the last few months. In this moment, even the first time she won the title, the date permanently tallied there on the back of her neck, doesn’t seem to come close to this.

Brie’s tongue laps over her clit and AJ whimpers. The pressure is only light at first, only gentle, but then Brie’s sucking at her clit, and _oh god oh god oh god_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” AJ hisses, shuddering, and her hand catches in Brie’s hair to keep her there. Brie doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps going, lets AJ pull at her hair until she comes.

AJ’s lost in it, so taken by the mind-numbing pleasure and the fact that she’s finally got this, finally got Brie, that she can’t keep anything in. After all, Brie deserves to hear her. Deserves to know just how _right_ this is, how right the two of them are.

“Oh God, _Brie_.” It begins as a murmur and ends as a cry, loud and desperate and awed, and the hand in Brie’s hair loosens, unable to keep much of a hold any longer, and-and-and –

And Brie pulls her mouth away, and then Brie isn’t Brie anymore. She’s Paige, and Paige is looking at AJ in horror.

“What the fuck was that?” Paige demands, incensed, moving back and away from in between AJ’s legs. AJ feels herself moving her lips as if she’s going to say something, but no sound comes out. She doesn’t even know what she’d say, anyway. “Brie? _Brie?”_

“Paige, I...” AJ finds _some_ thing, some words, but not enough to answer with.

“What? You _what?_ ” Paige has stood up now, her hands clenched into fists.

AJ still doesn’t say anything. Just stays lying on the bed, bare and feeling vulnerable, angry eyes burning into her.

“Get out of my room!” Or, perhaps not just angry, because when AJ does actually glance up, Paige looks genuinely hurt.

OK, so she fucked up. She doesn’t care, though. She probably should care, should actually apologise to Paige, but no. She doesn’t want to. She just wants Brie.

She finds herself regretting it later, when she’s alone in a cold cocoon of thin hotel sheets and her sobbing over Brie has at least partly become tears about the fact that she’s practically just cut ties with just about everyone else in the locker room whether she meant to or not. At this point, Paige was all she had, really.

This wasn’t like it was with Kaitlyn. This wasn’t underhanded tactics to get her hands on the title. She _meant_ to do that, to humiliate Kaitlyn back then, even if a part of her knows it wasn’t what should have happened. Kaitlyn’s gone now though, has been gone for over a year, and her not being there at least kept the guilt from swallowing AJ whole. Paige is going to be here for years to come. There’s nothing to be done about that.

There’s nothing to be done about Brie, either. The moment AJ has her head on straight enough to realise that, she becomes a tornado again – so fraught with rage and passion and woe and all kinds of emotions that she can hardly even move or breathe without feeling _something_ too strong and needing to scream.

Within a week, it becomes too much. She has to be gone from here, has to leave and never come back. Retire. That’s what she has to do. AJ’s never been one to back down from trying to get what she wants, but even she can tell this is impossible. She’s already done what she came here for, already broken records and taken risks and run things her way.

Her mind still drifts to Brie sometimes (most-times, all-of-the-times), but now it’s easier. Easier because she doesn’t have to pass Brie backstage multiple times a week, doesn’t have to wrestle Brie and make that torturous skin to skin contact that both electrifies and torments her.

She keeps her own piece of Brie locked away inside her head: that kiss, way back at Survivor Series. Even if it was seen by thousands and thousands, it’s _hers_. And no-one can take that moment away from her.


End file.
